


Daunting Love

by Tsundere_Icecream



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 00:55:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsundere_Icecream/pseuds/Tsundere_Icecream





	Daunting Love

Sherlock had learned early on, you had to be firm with a Holmes.

There’s no getting around the fact that John Watson is a large and voracious lover. Sherlock knew this. Perhaps that was why he And as such Sherlock had known what he was getting into. 

He’s even been surprised by his own sensitivity towards 

John arched backward, pressing into the slow, panting, humid, open-mouthed kisses Sherlock was smearing across the back of his shoulders and neck. He felt full and sensitive and raw. This wasn't a variation they practiced often, Sherlock inside him. It still felt thrilling and very new—almost dangerous—but any feelings of vulnerability he may have had were swept away by the strange, ardent physical tenderness Sherlock offered him every time they made love this way. John felt worshipped. Maybe that's exactly what it was. It was never spoken aloud, but could be no more evident in the careful way Sherlock moved inside John, huddled protectively over his back, all his concentration focused on balancing his own rough-edged need with John's pleasure. Even without the intense physical sensations, that glimpse alone of Sherlock's steadfast effort at self-control, the knowledge that he mattered this much to Sherlock, made the act something bordering on transcendent for John.

The first time they had tried it, Sherlock lost his erection entirely. The next two times, Sherlock hadn't lasted more than thirty seconds, the sensations had been so intense. Finally, when they made it last, the first time John came with Sherlock inside him, with the morning sun warming their bed and Sherlock's hand wrapped around his cock, he came so hard he legitimately though he may have burst a blood vessel. Sherlock had glowed with almost insufferable pride for days. The time after that, John's brightly blissful comment afterward about how much he wished he'd been doing this for years had set Sherlock off on a tight-mouthed, door-slamming, couch-flopping sulk that lasted well into the evening before John worked out what the issue was. He crawled into bed that night and smoothed his hand down Sherlock's sullenly-presented back, "I meant doing this for years with you, you idiot. Only with you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sherlock answered tightly, but when John turned out the bedside lamp, Sherlock had rolled over, kissed his ear, snuggled against him, and gone right to sleep—and that was the end of that tantrum.

Now, Sherlock curled around John like a starfish latched onto on a rock, his breath sounding more and more like a freight train as he struggled to control the depth and speed of his thrusts. John turned his head to the side as far as he could, seeking Sherlock's kiss. Their lips met sloppily, eagerly, and Sherlock shifted his body with caution and care, balancing his weight on one arm so he could hold his hand lightly, ever so gently, at the base of John's throat.

"John," he breathed. It was the only word Sherlock ever said when he was inside John—when he said anything at all—but John heard every intended meaning in it. He pressed his hips up and back in answer and Sherlock made a despairing sound.

John reached up to bury his fingers in Sherlock's hair, pulling his head down. "Sherlock. Stop."

Sherlock stilled, trembling, sweating, waiting.

"Here's what's going to happen next. When I say, you're going to move again. And I'm going to tell you, until I run out of breath or coherent thought, how much I love you, because as mind-bogglingly arrogant as you are, you seem to need to hear it a little more." Sherlock's breath was fast and heavy on the side of John's neck. "Do you understand?"

After a beat, he felt Sherlock's head nod in affirmation under his hand. John felt a shudder run through Sherlock's body and smiled. He took his hand from Sherlock's hair and clutched a handful of the bed sheet instead. He summoned his best Captain's voice, low and firm.

"Now move."

Sherlock snarled as he surrendered his self-control to John.


End file.
